The Story Teller
by BakerStreetKid
Summary: Mycroft and Greg are finally getting away for a much needed rest, and John has lumbered with the task of caring for their children for the evening. After the power cuts out, he tells them the much wanted story of how Gregory Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes fell in love :) A very fluffy fic. Chapter 2 replaced :) Will try to post regularly, promise. #Johnlock #Mystrade
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! I know that I have two other stories on the go (and they will be updated soon, I promise) I just wanted to do something different, so here is the prologue, to a hopefully very fluffy fic :)**

**Prologue**

Captain John Watson, formerly of the fifth Northumberland fusiliers had the task of caring for his nephew and nieces for weekend, a task that his husband, Sherlock Holmes, did not wish to undertake during a case.

So the task fell to him, it was hardly a burden- but as Mycroft and Greg were always working, it meant the children were all very different, each one had developed a different personality. Olivia-Grace, or just Liv when she wasn't around Mycroft was almost 17, and sparked the intelligence that any agent or spy would be jealous of- she was biologically Mycroft's, but , she had inherited Sherlock's looks of dark curly hair, a sharp whit and a fierce temper. She had spent most of her time around John when she was younger, as both Mycroft and Greg were busy with work, and John was unemployed. Charlotte, was nearing the age of 10, a young girl whom many would describe as plain compared to her siblings, but, like Greg, she was very inquisitive and always wanted to know the ins and outs of what was happening in a situation, she had grown up around the police, living every single minute with her father. The youngest of the Holmes children was their Son, Harry was the spitting image of Mycroft, and though he was only 5, we was scarily like his father in too many ways, you did not want to be mysterious around him- he would deduce your situation in a manner of minutes..

In spite of this, he loved his nieces and nephew dearly, but he couldn't help but feel exhausted already, gazing at the watch Sherlock had given him (which he was sure that Mycroft bought to give to Sherlock, so that he would have something to give John, instead of the usual gifts- a research paper and a pack of condoms. True love was certainly in the air..). It wasn't until he had looked back up at his apartment and he realized how dirty it was, specks of dust floated gracefully through the air catching glimpses of the incandescent light, however, he digressed, the children would be here any minute and he was certainly not prepared.

He quickly whipped out his phone to text Liv, until he noticed the message icon softly blinking at him, on the screen of his mobile.

_*On our way. Be warned, Harry is already deducing, and Lottie is asking questions- LH*_

*_Oh no. What questions..*_

_*You'll find out ;) Hahaha..*_

And before he knew it, Mycroft's familiar pounding of their door. 'John!' He bellowed, so practically the whole street could hear, 'Has Sherlock put the doorbell in the microwave again?'

As he raced down the tiny stairs, he called his reply: 'he said that when it was ringing, it was interrupting his deductions, so no new doorbell..' He opened the door to see the small family of 5, all waiting patiently outside the door, clutching their suitcases. 'Hi kids, go settle down upstairs while I talk to your Da- Father- while I talk to your parents.' They thundered up the staircase like a herd of wildebeest, finally, something interesting to do!

'Off anywhere nice?' The army doctor pondered, praying they wouldn't go in to too much detail.

'Yeah, just a weekend away' Greg replied, the line had obviously been rehearsed, as he was completely ignoring John and focusing all his attention on Mycroft, his velvety eyes latching on to the taller mans.

'So have a nice weekend then.' John replied, obviously third wheeling with his brother-in-law and his best friend. 'So see you on Sunday'

More silence followed as the two men smiled at each other, completely oblivious to the question John had just asked them.

'Sunday?' John finally asked, interrupting them.

'Yes. See you on Sunday, John' They both replied, and walked off hand in hand to Mycroft's car.

...

By the time John Watson had gone upstairs again, he saw that all havoc had been caused in the space of 5 minutes. Harry was running around, as fast as his little legs would take him- followed anxiously by Lottie, who managed to trip over every time she ran after her brother. He swiftly lifted Harry from the floor, as he kicked and screamed for the man to put him down, John simply replied: 'Time for bed mister.. Say goodnight to the girls'

The child was completely silent.

'Say goodnight, Harry.' John said forcefully.

Again, the child was completely silent, but this time he shook his head.

Lottie ran up to him and kissed him gently on the forehead, 'goodnight, little brother' She said very daintily, and in turn Olivia followed reluctantly.

'Goodnight, Lott-ily. Goodnight Liva.' The child said struggling.

And John carried him away.

...

Thankful for Harry's early bedtime, John relaxed on the sofa with his nieces, smiling at them as they watched Doctor Who.

'Do you think Rose will die...' Asked the ten year old quietly, 'Because she really is my favourite'

'Shh, Lottie' Her sister replied, anxious to see what happens next.

But that's when it happened, at the edge-of-your-seat moment, the power across the whole of London had cut out, leaving John and the sisters, covered in darkness.

'Do we have any candles?' Liv asked apprehensively.

But John replied with a worried expression 'I don't think so Liv. I'm sure it will be back on soon'

'You sure?'

'Positive.'

The three sat in silence for the next ten minutes, until Lottie began to cry. 'Please' She wailed. 'Can you tell us a story, Uncle John?'

'Of course my sweet, which one would you like to hear?'

'Can you tell us why you and Uncle Sherlock were having that shouting game, last time we came round. Can we play it?'

'Shouting game?' He asked, wondering whatever the girl could be talking about.

'You and Uncle Sherlock were playing it in your room.' She said very innocently, 'You kept shouting each other's names, until Uncle Sherlock said 'Oh God Joh-''

Liv began to giggle, to the point where she started to snort.

'Maybe not tonight, Lottie' John replied, blushing. Stopping Liv's insane giggling. 'Why don't I tell you the story about your dads'

'Our dad's have a story?' Olivia asked. 'Father always told us that he met Dad through you and Sherlock, is that not the case?'

'Oh no, that is what happens' He replied, 'But this is the story of how they fell in love...'

**Have a great week guys, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! So I decided to remove the second chapter, and replace it with this one as it felt it was a lot better than the original! Please review I would love to hear your opinions! Just a few notes: **

**-John's story is in italics**

**-In the normal font; is the reaction from the girls and the break into real life!**

_Since__Gregory Lestrade was a little boy, he loved spy stories, the thrill of the chase and the agonising pain of every fight scene. It was understatement to say he was addicted. His mother, however, was less enthusiastic about his future ambitions- always being the type of woman to stand in the way of someone's dream if there was a gun involved. She had taken everything from him, telling him I was just a silly fantasy- but worst of all, he was banned from watching James Bond, which was the most heart breaking of all, she had told him to grow up and set his sights on the police. 'Being a spy,' The mother would say 'is just silly tosh, Gregory. You need to grow up'._

_So he grew up, separating himself from everything spy-related, and when Sherlock turned up with his brother's umbrella he knew it would nothing but trouble._

_'Sherlock, we haven't got a case. What are you doing here?'_

_'My brother left this.' He replied, presenting the precious umbrella, in both hands as if it were some sort of sword._

_'So?' He replied, bored of Sherlock's antics with his mysterious brother._

_'I'm on a case, I didn't have time to look into it. Besides, you have all the resources.'_

_'So you decided to bring an umbrella to Scotland yard, because your busy?'_

_'Something's different this time, Gavin. Something very different.'_

_'It's Greg.' The DI replied, infuriated by the genius._

_'No it's Mycroft's umbrella. Got to dash Lestrade, catch you later.'_

_And the detective flew out the room, and the inspector's hands covered his head- he now had to sort out thousands of confidential files, so Sherlock wouldn't OD again. Every moment regretting his choice to work in the police, he would have made a damn good spy. As he thought this, he kicked his filing cabinet open with his foot, and grabbed his gun. What a time to be alive. _

_..._

_The Diogenes Club had stood proudly in the streets of London for many years, housing many officials and their secrets. Tradition kept the place together- the glue that held the bricks from tumbling. Mycroft Holmes, was no stranger to the place, being the youngest member to join since the records began, he had finished both school and university, extremely early for his age, and at 18, was already in a high position in Mi5 and working up his way in the government, at the time he was welcome in the club, now, he was part of the family. _

_However, on this particular day, Mycroft had entered his room in the Diogenes Club to discover his umbrella missing. Like Sherlock and his coats, the man had many umbrellas, but the one missing was his most treasured. He was not a sentimental man when it came to people, places or objects, but this umbrella, he valued it, for it was one that carried a knife in the handle for good measure._

_..._

_Gregory Lestrade had discovered many things about Mycroft Holmes' umbrella, not only was it extremely expensive, but the had also been waxed regularly and in true Holmes style it carried a knife, however, this discovery was made accidently and he had spent the whole evening in A&E, waiting out the blood loss._

The girls, listened in awe to John's story, Liv, in particular took in every ounce of information, much like Sherlock, unscrambling the story being told.

'Scar.' She interrupted him. 'He still has the scar, from were the knife hit him- he used to show me when I was little, it was here', she traced the area on her own hand, marking the spot from the edge of her thumb to her middle finger, with her nails scratching slightly at the skin.

'What happened?' Lottie pleaded, 'What happened with Daddy's hand?'

He smiled, 'You know what Lottie? I can't remember.'

...

_'This' Gregory stormed through 221b, clutching the umbrella in his bandaged him, 'is ridiculous.'_

_I was thinking the same thing, in a much different context, you see, your uncle Sherlock and I just started sleep- dating, and we were playing the shouting game, Lottie, that you spoke about earlier, and it was a bit awkward because Greg hadn't played the shouting game for a long time. But none the less, it was ridiculous to see him, and it's safe to say that he was not happy at all. _

_We had taken a minute to compose ourselves, but that's when Greg showed me the umbrella._

_'WHAT KIND OF MAN CARRIES A KNIFE IN AN UMBRELLA?' A fuming Greg had not yet cooled down. _

_'You obviously haven't met his brother then?' I replied, for too many years I had been familiar with Mycroft's bazaar antics, and to be honest, I was a tiny bit disappointed with Mycroft. I thought he would come up with something more inventive than a knife in the umbrella handle. 'To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing explodes.'_

_Greg then turned, 'Yeah, that's another thing.' He paused, collecting himself, 'Sherlock, I don't suppose you know what this button does?'_

_..._

**Thank you for reading! Please review!**


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